Finding Out What Really Matters

My daughter made me proud to be her mother yesterday – okay every day – but yesterday in particular she affirmed that my brand of often laid-back mothering is okay, great even. Yesterday she wore her hair in braids, one on each side, pigtail style. We fastened the ends of her braids with tiny elastic bands – newfangled ones that are difficult to even pick up they are so small, practically invisible. In our normal morning chaos (we only have a good morning on the first day of school) we picked up the first two, maybe the only two hair elastics we could find, one navy, and one black. SCORE! There is almost no difference between navy and black. We have had to settle for white and neon green before which really make an appearance next to her dark hair. It was shaping up to be a nice day. Hairstyle that wasn’t a ponytail, near matching hair elastics, and three kids who all liked what the school cafeteria served.

Fast forward to parent pick up, the endless line of vehicles, none of which will follow the simple instructions regarding what time to pick up your children:

Kindergarten -2nd grade 2:35
3rd and 4th grade 2:45
5th and 6th and all younger siblings 3:00

Sounds simple enough, right? Not really, because everyone shows up by 2:45 using the logic that by the time they get through the line, it will be 3. With this in mind, I usually show up around 3:05, no line! When my kids from the 5th and 6th and all younger siblings category got in the car, they began their chatter (okay I prodded them until they began their chatter) about the day’s events. My daughter, the one in braids, began by reporting that her friend informed her that her hair elastics didn’t match, while also pointing out that her own hair thingies always match!!!! Seriously?! I mean, these are the tiniest rubber bands in the history of rubber bands (that’s just a guess) and they were black and navy against dark brown hair. What kind of mutation provides this particular 6th grade girl with vision to make such a distinction? I held my breath for just a second, hoping this hadn’t ruined her day, as things like this often do for adolescent girls. But, she continued on with her response, which went something like this, “ Well (insert name of mean girl here), I am thrilled that your Mom was so on task this morning,” in her most sarcastic voice! Again, SCORE!!!!

Of course, the mama-guilt monster that always rears its ugly head prompted me to ask if my daughter would like for me to be more on task, i.e. buy matching rubber bands, to which she replied, “Seriously Mom, who cares about that?” My thoughts exactly dear daughter, I am proud you are mine!!